The thought was electric. That speck, significantly pointed out by O'Connell, suggested the whole painful history of his fatherland to the memory of the ardent young Irishman.
AN INSOLENT JUDGE.
The judges themselves often came in for a share of his animadversions, when he deemed their judicial or other conduct deserved public censure; and when he pleaded as an advocate before them, their resentment betrayed itself. Singular to say, his practice was never injuriously affected by his boldness outside. Other men have suffered vitally from the political or personal hostility of judges—Curran was one of them. But O'Connell beat down the most formidable hatred, and compelled, by the sheer force of legal and intellectual power, the bitterest and most obstinate personal rancor to give way. He compelled pompous, despotic, and hostile judges to yield. He could not be awed. If they were haughty, he was proud. If they were malevolent, he was cuttingly sarcastic.
It happened that he was by at an argument in one of the courts of Dublin, in the course of which a young Kerry attorney was called upon by the opposing counsel, either to admit a statement as evidence, or to hand in some documents he could legally detain. O'Connell was not specially engaged. The discussion arose on a new trial motion—the issue to go down to the Assizes. He did not interfere until the demand was made on the attorney, but he then stood up and told him to make no admission.
He was about to resume his seat, when the judge, Baron M'Cleland, said, with a peculiar emphasis, "Mr. O'Connell, have you a brief in this case?"
"No, my lord, I have not; but I will have one, when the case goes down to the Assizes."
"When I," rejoined the judge, throwing himself back with an air of lofty scorn, "was at the bar, it was not my habit to anticipate briefs."
"When you were at the bar," retorted O'Connell, "I never chose you for a model; and now that you are on the Bench, I shall not submit to your dictation." Leaving his lordship to digest the retort, he took the attorney by the arm, and walked him out of Court. In this way he dealt with hostile judges.
A WITNESS CAJOLED.
O'Connell knew so intimately the habits and character of the humbler class, that he was able, by cajolery or intimidation, to coerce them, when on the table, into truth-telling. He was once examining a witness, whose inebriety, at the time to which the evidence referred, it was essential to his client's case to prove. He quickly discovered the man's character. He was a fellow who may be described as "half foolish with roguery."